Review
Books
Culture
Re-enchanting
6 min read

Re-enchanting… reading lists

As a Re-enchanting series ends, here's our guests and staff book picks.

Tom Rippon is Assistant Editor at Roots for Churches, an ecumenical charity.

A pile of books on a bedside table.
Jodie Cook on Unsplash.

Inside a book, we find ‘a world that reflects our own, but isn’t this world’, at least that’s what David Bennett had to say when he appeared on our Re-enchanting podcast earlier this year, and given the power of books to transport us beyond the everyday, what better way to start each episode than with the question, ‘what are you reading?’ 

Many of our guests are self-confessed bookworms and admit to having several books on the go at once, dipping in and out according to their mood and the time of day, and a sizeable number profess a love of audiobooks.  So, after a blitz of the Seen & Unseen back-catalogue – accompanied by many sidetracks into our guests’ ponderings with Belle Tindall and Justin Brierley – here’s what’s on the Re-enchanting reading list. 

Chapter one: by way of introduction 

At first glance, it would seem that our guests are a serious bunch, because the Re-enchanting book list is dominated by non-fiction. Works on the intersection of science, religion and society are clear front-runners, ranging from R.H. Tawney’s Religion and the Rise of Capitalism (Francis Spufford’s pick) to Charles Foster’s The Selfless Gene (Paul Kingsnorth), but more general works also abound. An interest in re-enchantment clearly involves careful study of the everyday from cradle – Jonathan Haidt’s The Anxious Generation (Sarah Irving-Stonebreaker) – to grave, for example, Stephen and Cynthia Covey’s father-daughter collaboration, Live Life in Crescendo, Your Most Important Work is Always Ahead of You (Michael Hastings). Some encouraging words at a time when questions about ageing and illness are on the national agenda. 

Chapter two: heading (east) into deeper waters 

As a podcast that invites its guests onto the roof of Lambeth Palace Library, it will come as no surprise that our guests’ picks also feature a selection of books on theology and spirituality. Nick Spencer recommends Prophecy and Discernment by Walter Moberly, whilst Brooklyn pastor Rasool Berry brings us back down to earth with Sam Alberry’s What God Has to Say About Our Bodies: Why the Gospel is Good News for Our Physical Selves.   

Many guests, however, seem to be directing our attention eastwards towards the spirituality of Orthodox Christianity; their picks include classics such as Michael Kozlov and Arsenius Troyepolsky’s The Way of the Pilgrim (Martin Shaw); and The Art of Prayer by Hegumen Khariton (Molly Worthen); as well as a newer work by the twentieth-century saint, Porphyrios of Kafsokalyvia, Wounded by Love (Paul Kingsnorth). But this road of literary spirituality doesn’t stop in Eastern Europe, it keeps going until our arrival in Nepal via the memoirs and meditations of Tenzin Palmo in Cave in the Snow: A Western Woman’s Quest for Enlightenment (Sabina Alkira). Stories of global faith for a globalised world indeed.  

Chapter three: story of my life 

It is said that the best stories are the real ones and our guests apparently agree: biographies and memoirs pop up repeatedly throughout their picks. Sticking with the theme of spiritual journeys, our guests are reading works which recount journeys away from faith communities, such as Megan Phelps-Roper’s Unfollow (Glen Scrivener), as well as ones deeper into faith. One of the most striking of these is James Pennington’s nineteenth-century abolitionist pamphlet Two Years Absence (Esau McCaulley). Pennington was a self-taught pastor who left his church community following his re-enfranchisement to study theology at Princeton. His pamphlet was adapted from a sermon given to prepare his congregation for the journey which would take him deeper into his faith, but away from the community in which he lived it out. Many stories begin with a ‘setting out’ only to ‘return home’ in the closing pages, and perhaps this structure bears a closer resemblance to real life than it may initially appear? 

Venturing away from the spiritual, but remaining in the political vein, perhaps the most frequently mentioned book so far has to be Rory Stewart’s memoir Politics on the Edge, himself a Re-enchanting guest way back in series 2. Alternatively, readers who have had their fill of politics may wish to try the memoirs of polar explorer Robert Bartlett, as recommended by Molly Worthen, or, to take a leaf from Milton Jones, the equally fascinating and no-less-hair-raising Windswept and Interesting: My Autobiography by Billy Connolly. 

So far, fiction has not featured much amongst our guests’ recommendations, but tentative favourite would be the Pulitzer prize-winning novel by Barbara Kingsolver, Demon Copperhead.  Set in present-day Appalachia and inspired by Charles Dickens’ David Copperfield, Demon Copperhead touches on the poverty and struggles of America’s left-behind communities, who today find themselves worlds away from the glitz of global politics, yet wielding a political influence that extends far beyond their own borders. 

Chapter four: A whole new world or the world reimagined? 

In the instances when fiction has appeared in our guests’ bed stands, it seems that they have a taste for fantasy and science fiction.  The favourite by far here is C. S. Lewis, with several guests reminiscing of their experience of reading Narnia, but for Jack Palmer-Wright the experience of rereading The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe took special significance this year as he introduced it to his five-year-old for the first time. Adult readers looking to relive the experience of discovering Lewis for the first time should check out Lewis’ lesser-known Space Trilogy, particularly That Hideous Strength: A Modern Fairytale for Grown-Ups, recommended by Holly Ordway as a prophetic tale for today’s world.  

Other stalwarts of the fantasy genre also made an appearance, such as J. R. R. Tolkien and J. K. Rowling, but perhaps the most surprising recommendation to come out of Re-enchanting would be Margaret Cavendish’s The Blazing World (Frank Skinner). Published in 1666 and considered to be perhaps the first science-fiction novel, The Blazing World is set in a parallel world with fantastical technologies reached via the North Pole. The characters, including Cavendish herself, criss-cross between worlds as the novel moves through its three sections, ‘Romancical’, ‘Philosophical’ and ‘Fantastical’, exploring questions of social organisation, governance, and whether it is really possible to create a new religion complete with a fully fledged religious literature. Given the ongoing conversations about the place of religion in the twenty-first century, perhaps it’s time for Cavendish to make a comeback. 

Chapter five: what next? 

Stories are made of words but they are also made of silences, and these narrative gaps are just as key to getting a story to take flight as the most well-chosen, well-balanced phrase.  The biggest gap in our Re-enchanting reading list is poetry.  Books about poets – the Romantics, Seamus Heaney, to name a couple - have made an appearance, but we have yet to receive a straightforward poetry recommendation from any of our guests.  So, should you feel the need to fill this gap, here’s a few from us for anyone looking for something to dip into over the coming year. 

  • Sara Teasdale  
  • Mary Oliver 
  • Gerard Manley Hopkins  
  • Jackie Kay 
  • Jalāl al-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī 
  • Victor Hugo 

Happy reading and see you in 2025 for more Re-enchanting. 

2024 staff picks

And here’s the picks from the rest of the Seen & Unseen editorial team. 

Graham Tomlin, editor-in-chief 

  • Sally Rooney: Normal People
  • Jessie Childs: The Siege of Loyalty House: A New History of the English Civil War

Belle Tindall, staff writer 

  • Selina Stone: Tarry Awhile .
  • Sally Rooney: Intermezzo.  
    Frank C. Laubach: Letters from a Modern Mystic.   

Nick Jones, senior editor 

  • Jon Fosse: A Shining
  • Mary Millar: Jane Haining – A Life of Love and Courage
  • Peter Ross: Steeple Chasing

Join with us - Behind the Seen

Seen & Unseen is free for everyone and is made possible through the generosity of our amazing community of supporters.

If you’re enjoying Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?

Alongside other benefits (book discounts etc.), you’ll receive an extra fortnightly email from me sharing what I’m reading and my reflections on the ideas that are shaping our times.

Graham Tomlin

Editor-in-Chief

Article
Community
Culture
Football
Friendship
4 min read

As the season starts, here's why fans go mad for football

The game is part of life, but not all of life

Henry Corbett, a vicar in Liverpool and chaplain to Everton Football Club.  

  

A football stand displays a long banner with text on it.
Everton F.C.

“I hate football,” said the mother of two mad keen footballing children. The clue to the hatred is maybe in the ‘mad keen’. Why do children and adults care so much about football? 

“That Champions League music is so pompous…!” 

“It’s only a football match! They make it too important. If their team loses then they are miserable for the whole weekend.” 

“We can’t plan holidays until the fixtures come out.” 

The money spent, the jobs refused, lost or short-changed, all because of football. A giant banner at a recent Everton home game read “I simply love you more than I love life itself”. 

And there is football manager Bill Shankly wisdom: “Football is not a matter of life and death. It’s more important than that.” At least that was a typical Shankly quip, hyperbole for effect.  

Why do some of us love football so much? 

It often goes back to childhood. Playing with mates, scoring a goal, saving a goal, enjoying the togetherness, the shared aim, the friendships formed. Then there’s that first experience of going to a match. Up the stairs and there before you is a great huge rectangular expanse of green grass. Back in the day, it was maybe not so green, but still way more impressive than your back garden or the local park. Then comes the drama, unscripted, of the game. The sways of emotion, the joy, the frustration, and all experienced as part of a bigger community. When you kick a ball with your mates aged 50, or go to a game aged 80, you are doing something that connects you with your childhood enthusiasm, joy and wonder. 

Then there are the family connections. You may have gone to that first match with your Mum, Dad, Grandad, older brother or sister. When Everton supporters were asked about their feelings at the last Premier League game at Goodison Park, again and again they referenced family members who they had gone to the match with. Some passed away, some no longer able to go, even some whose ashes were buried behind the goal. 

There are the great memories of games seen or even played in. That win from 2-0 down, that last minute goal, the euphoria of a Cup win against the odds. And the memories are shared ones, with family, with friends. Football can write some miserable scripts, 0-0, 0-1, 0-6, but it can also write some wonderful memorable dramas.  

Love for family, for friends, for a team, for players is a deep emotion and when that love is linked to victory or defeat the stakes are raised. 

There is another reason which can touch us all, football-lovers or football-haters. Deep down we all want to be winners in life, not losers. The feeling of victory, not defeat, is such a treasured one. And the win, or loss, is a shared one: we are part of a group together, an identity together. Love for family, for friends, for a team, for players is a deep emotion and when that love is linked to victory or defeat the stakes are raised. In life we want goodness to win over evil, kindness to win over cruelty. The reason every Church shows the symbol of the Cross is because there was the ultimate demonstration of purposeful love, the sacrifice for the sins of the world, down the ages, across the world. When the apostle Paul writes to beleaguered, persecuted Christians facing death at the hands of Emperor Nero, he tells them “We are more than conquerors,” more than winners.  

Football, playing or watching, taps into that deep feeling of victory. “We’re on the march with (manager’s name here!) army…. And we’ll really shake them up when we win the FA Cup…” When my team faced the prospect of relegation I wondered why I was feeling butterflies, and more than butterflies, in my stomach. Why did I care so much about this game of football, and the result at the weekend? Yes, because it affected people’s lives, because it would mean loss of income and job losses at the club if relegation happened. But also, because the feeling of defeat, of failure, would hang over us, and that feeling goes deep, to the pit of the stomach.  

So why do some of us care so much? Because football taps into deep feelings; of family and friendship, joy and elation, togetherness and identity, and that wonderful feeling of victory… or the sorrow of defeat. Those feelings go deep. The problem is that football, unlike the Cross, sometime delivers, but definitely doesn’t always. That’s a reason why the mum of those those two mad-keen football-loving children should try and make sure that her two sons have other interests besides football, another faith beside faith in their team. Football is part of life, but not all of life. I also hope she stops hating what can be a beautiful, enchanting, community-fostering game, with many a helpful story to tell. 

Support Seen & Unseen

Since Spring 2023, our readers have enjoyed over 1,500 articles. All for free. 
This is made possible through the generosity of our amazing community of supporters.

If you enjoy Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?
 
Do so by joining Behind The Seen. Alongside other benefits, you’ll receive an extra fortnightly email from me sharing my reading and reflections on the ideas that are shaping our times.

Graham Tomlin
Editor-in-Chief